Read Spanking Ms. Whitman for Free Online

had buckled her knees and clenched her muscles around her fingers. She rested her cheek on the cool marble counter, panting. She’d be able to make it through the afternoon now. As long as she didn’t think too much about what Mr. Marks had planned for his return.
    Or maybe I should try and think of how to return the favor. What would it take to curl Mr. Marks’ toes?
    Straightening her skirt she took one more glance and twirled. The girl in the mirror winked at her and with a laugh she flounced back to her office.
    Bubbles of excitement zoomed through her veins. She’d never truly believed her staid boss would spank her, and she’d almost come with the first whack on her bottom. She tried to focus on her job and not think about lying splayed across his lap with her panties around her knees while he smacked her until his reddened handprints marked her buttocks and thighs.
    Or would he bind her hands behind her with his tie? He’d tug to make sure she couldn’t slip free and lay her out across his big, shiny desk, the varnished wood cool against her naked breasts and belly, paddling her until she convinced him of her true remorse then tugging her to the edge and slamming his hard cock into her pussy from behind. Making her orgasm over and over. Making her…
    She squirmed in her seat, glancing at the open door to the hallway. She could slide it closed and rub herself to another quick, therapeutic orgasm. In the name of sanity and the ability to perform her job. She stood and moved over to the door, building the fantasy in her mind that would get her off in a moment or two. Her panties were soaked already.
    As she grasped the knob, her phone buzzed and she looked over at her desk, taking in for the first time the quantity of work awaiting her. Besides, she wanted to put some of her lust to work on her plan to blow his mind. Or his cock. Mmmm.
    Anxiety and lust warred within her as she took her seat, clicked on her screen, and lifted the receiver. No point in adding dereliction of duty to her other sins. “Mona Whitman, oh hello, Angie, no I’ve been in conference.” The heat returned to her cheeks. “Yes, with Mr. Marks. No, he wasn’t too hard on me.” Not yet, anyway. “No, really, it’s fine. I believe we came to an understanding before he had to go out.”
    Damn that stupid lawyer and his meeting!
     
    ***
     
    Randolph Marks reached across the desk to shake hands with Edward. He’d been pleased with the news his lawyer had to share and they’d managed to tie up most of the loose ends concerning the acquisition of a smaller competitor, but he’d been frustrated with his inability to keep his mind completely on the matter. At least twice he’d caught the man giving him odd looks and realized he’d missed something.
    Completely out of character. He paid his attorney an exorbitant retainer to make sure every detail was handled properly, but his obsession with Mona and her white cotton panties occupied his thoughts. He’d never felt this way with any other woman.
    Waiting for the elevator, he shook his head then grinned. Mona sprawled across his lap and at his mercy. Who’d have guessed a day that started in such an ordinary way—with his favorite employee late as usual—would take such a turn. His erection tented the front of his pants and he held his briefcase in front of him. Wouldn’t do to put on a show for anyone exiting the elevator. He’d had a stiffy on and off all afternoon—just the thought of what the evening might hold more than enough to bring it on.
    Her image danced before him. Exiting the elevator, he paused at a flower kiosk in the lobby, a sudden impulse to buy flowers surprising him. He laughed and strode out to his car—he had it bad, but had no reason to assume Mona did. He’d have to take it one step at a time and not scare her off. She’d be shocked to learn she’d been the subject of his masturbatory fantasies for months. He’d stopped going to the club when he realized